Miller's Retreat

[shortydawkins]

This is the first Chapter of my new book Miller's Retreat. I'd appreciate any feedback.

Chapter One

“Let me get this straight, Sheriff. After your goddam government has killed off 95% of the population, with their genetically enhanced virus, you have the unmitigated gall to come here and ask for our help? Is that what I'm hearing from you, Sheriff? Maybe I'm not hearing you too well. Is that what this fool Sheriff is asking, Dave?”

“I think that's what he is doing, Henry. Isn't that what you are doing, Sheriff? Aren't you asking for help?”

Dave and Henry stared at the Sheriff from Henry's front porch. The Sheriff stood on the sidewalk leading up to the porch. His hat was in his hand and he was definitely not comfortable asking for their help. If he could have avoided it, he would have.

“Darn it. I didn't release that virus, Henry. We've got a real disaster on our hands here. You folks came through this thing with nary a loss. I don't understand why, but you did. Now ….”

“Because we wouldn't accept your damn vaccines, Sheriff. That virus was prepared to attack those who took your vaccines. I guess you were smart enough not to take them, too.” Henry interrupted him.

“For God's sake, Henry. I've already admitted you aren't the crazy fool I always thought you were. What more can I say?” Sheriff Bob Tremblay complained.

“It isn't what you can say, Sheriff, it's what you can do.” Henry stared at him with a fierce look. “You can throw that badge you are so damned proud of on the ground, take your uniform and that silly hat you wear and throw them in the trash, when you get home, and then, Bob Tremblay, you can admit that you are a man who is no better than the rest of us. You can admit that your power comes from a gun, nothing more. Well, Bob Tremblay, as things stand now, we don't need you, but I guess you need us. I could shoot you dead, right now, and most folks would think I was justified. You represent the Government that killed their loved ones, their friends and their neighbors.” Henry spit on the ground.

“I …..” the Sheriff started.

“Shut up, Bob.” Dave said, harshly. “Just shut up. We don't want to hear excuses. You have two options, Bob. One: throw away your badge and uniform, forswearing your stupid allegiance to the Government that just killed about 280 million of its own people. If you do that, we'll let you live, Bob, because option number two is for us to shoot you. That's right, Bob, we are not putting up with your damn government another minute. So, what will it be, Bob?”

Dave and Henry stared real hard at Bob. Yes, they were angry. They'd been angry for a lot of years, but the virus that had just killed billions of people worldwide, was the last straw. No one connected with the Government, who continued to think the Government was in the least bit moral would survive, if Henry and Dave had anything to say about it.

Bob was nervous, there was no doubt of it. Henry and Dave were both holding shotguns, and two of their sons also had shotguns, and they all now aimed them at him.

“You win, Henry.” Bob took off his hat and threw it on the ground. He then threw his badge on the ground.

“Now will you help me?” Bob asked.

“No, Bob, I won't help you. I'll let you live, as long as you renounce being Mister High and Mighty Sheriff, but I won't help you. Dave and I, and our families and friends will help our neighbors, Bob, not you. Why don't you stop thinking you're so damn important and roll up your sleeves and help them, too? Is that too much to ask?” Henry glared at Bob. “Now get out of here, Bob. We'll bring our people to help with the burials. If I see you in your uniform again, Bob, I'll kill you. Make no mistake about it.”

“I have one question for you, Henry.” Bob said. “How did you know? About the vaccines, I mean.”

“If you had ever bothered to read the literature Dave and I gave you, you wouldn't have to ask that question, Bob. But, no, you thought Dave and I were crazy conspiracy nuts. This didn't have to happen, Bob. You will go to your grave knowing you were part of the biggest genocide the world has ever known. Almost six billion dead. Isn't that what the count is estimated to be? I hope you are proud of the part you played in it.”

“I ….. I didn't ...”

“Bullshit, Bob. You are not stupid. The signs were everywhere. You just didn't want to know. You didn't want to interfere with your power trip. You wallowed in your ignorance, Bob. You were happy to pretend to be stupid, like the rest. You were content to bury your head in the sand, because you didn't have the courage to face reality. Well, reality is here, Bob. It is the stench of six billion rotting corpses.” Henry continued to glare at Bob. “I'm not letting you, or anyone else, off easy. I've paid my dues. Dave and I have been snickered at, and laughed at, called the Tin Foil Hat guys, because we tried to warn everyone. Very few listened. You wouldn't listen, Bob.

“Go on. Get out of here. You make me sick.” Henry turned and went into the house.

“You heard him, Bob. Get off our land.” Dave raised his gun and leveled it at Bob. “Get, Bob. Now.”

[shortydawkins]

Chapter Two

Four days of nothing but burials wore on Henry, Dave and their families. They saw the grief of the survivors and it saddened them. It was all so damned depressing, Henry thought. He looked at his two boys, Sandy and Daniel. They were hard at work digging at yet another grave. Sandy was the oldest. He was 22. Daniel was now 19. Their sister, Anne was just 15. Thank God they had all survived the fever.

“Take a breather, boys.” Henry called out to his sons. “Sandy, could you get the food satchel out of the truck, please, and the water jug?”

“Sure thing, Dad.” Sandy trotted over to the truck for the satchel.
“Dave, take a break.” Henry called to his brother. “You boys, too. There is no sense wearing yourself down, we are almost done.”

“You heard him, boys. Take a break.” Dave called to his two sons, Tom, who was 20, and Frank who was 17.

“I'll get the food.” Tom offered.

“Thank you, Tom.” Dave said, as he climbed out of the grave he was digging and walked over to his brother, who was sitting under the shade of a maple tree.

“I'll be glad to see the end of this.” Henry said as Dave sat on the grass near him.

“We all will.” Dave agreed. “Too much death. Too few living. Jim said there are only 50 survivors, not counting our people.”

By “our people” Dave was referring to the nine families in what they called Miller's Gulch. The nine families were all related to each other, by marriage mostly. Besides Henry and Dave, there was their sister, Linda, and her husband, Jim Stockton. They have three girls and a boy. Then there is Jim's brother, Tom, and his wife, Mary. They have two girls. Mary's brothers, Tim and Art James, were with them. Tim was married, to Sylvia. They have one little, Ernie, who is nine. Art hadn't married yet. He is 23.

Sylvia's sister, Carol, and her husband, Ed Roundy, were with them. They have a little girl, Jessica, who is 6. Dave's wife, Ellen, had her brother, Nathan, and his wife, Donna McNulty, and their sons, Ted, 16, and Ricky, 12. Henry's wife had her sister, Rachel, and her husband, Will Franklin, and their boy and girl, Robby, 14, and Janet, 11.

“That totals what, 86? Out of better than a thousand?” Henry shook his head. “Genocide. Brutal, despicable genocide.” What more could he say? What can you say to an engineered virus so deadly it kills 95% of the population, or more?

Sandy returned and handed out sandwiches to everyone. He had some paper cups that he filled with water from the jug for the three of them. Tom did the same with his Father and brother.

“We'll need to hay the lower fields when we finish here.” Dave commented. He wanted to get the conversation off the morbid subject of death.

“You're right, Dave. Tim and Ed have been holding down the fort while the rest of us have been here. It's time for us to concentrate on surviving.” Henry said.

“We have plenty of supplies stored away.” Sandy remarked.

“Yes. And we have chickens, hogs, dairy cows and a nice orchard, besides our big garden. We are prepared. My only concern is fuel for the tractors and trucks. We'll have to get the still in operation.” Dave mentioned.

“I wouldn't be surprised if Jim and Nathan already have started to get it set up.” Henry said. “They know what needs to be done.”

“I hear no one survived on the South road. We should do some scavenging down there.” Dave suggested.

“That's a good idea.” Henry agreed. “Why don't you take some of the boys and start on it tomorrow? We will be done here today. I'll start haying the lower fields with my boys.”

They chatted easily about what needed to be done. The boys joined in, as usual, for the Gulch was a large family affair. Each member, of whatever age, was encouraged to contribute their thoughts and ideas. Even the young ones had useful ideas, sometimes, they found.

After a suitable rest period they went back to work. The last of the departed were laid to rest that day. Henry said a few words over the last grave, and they left the dead to get to know each other in the large new graveyard they called Genocide Graveyard. May they rest in peace.

[mnn2300]

Interesting start, looking forward to more.
My only question, and you may be explaining later, would a sheriff really have anything to do with a man made disease to wipe out most of the population? I would think that would be way above a sheriff's level.
Other than that, I really like the community of people who stayed away from the vaccine.
Interested to see more. Thanks for posting.

[shortydawkins]

Jan 20, 2012 11:21:04 GMT -6 mnn2300 said:

Interesting start, looking forward to more.
My only question, and you may be explaining later, would a sheriff really have anything to do with a man made disease to wipe out most of the population? I would think that would be way above a sheriff's level.
Other than that, I really like the community of people who stayed away from the vaccine.
Interested to see more. Thanks for posting.

Thanks for the comment, mnn. Re: the Sheriff. It isn't that he had anything personally to do with the virus, rather it is that he represents the Government that did it.

Shorty

[idahobob]

Another good 'un it the making. ;D

Thanks, and keep it up.

Bob
III

[shortydawkins]

Chapter Three

Miller's Gulch was a sprawling farm complex of over a thousand acres on the south side of Whitman. Henry and the other members had put it together with several land purchases over the course of the last twenty years. They had seen what was coming, and with patience, and much hard work, they had created a little community capable of basically sustaining itself, independent of the outside world. Various skills, crafts and trades had been learned by one or more of the members. They could farm, raise dairy cows, hogs, look after the orchard, build houses, saw wood at their steam powered sawmill and many other things. They had eight horses and two horse-drawn wagons, as well as a four person buggy. Everyone had learned how to ride and handle horses. They had two horse-drawn plows, a horse-drawn hay-rake, and Tim and Art had developed a horse-drawn hay baler. Tim, Art and Nathan were the metal workers. Dave and Jim knew steam engines, and had developed a wood-fired steam generator, which could power all their homes. When others had no power, and therefore no refrigeration, and possibly no water, they were all set for both.

The orchard, which Henry and Ed had spent a lot of time developing, was comprised of apple trees, blueberry and raspberry bushes, Concord grapes and a few cherry trees. It covered over a hundred acres.

The dairy portion of the farm had thirty milking cows and two bulls. They got all their milk needs from these cows. They made butter and some yogurt, as well as plenty of cheese, besides all their simple milk needs. From the calves born each year, they derived their meat needs, using the bulls, who were gelded, for this purpose, as well as the excess cows. Occasionally an older cow was slaughtered, to be replaced by a younger cow. Will Franklin and Tom Stockton ran the dairy side of things.

Dave and his boys raised twelve to fifteen hogs a year. They had a smokehouse for making hams and bacon, and there was a large,central walk-in freezer where meat and frozen foods were stored.

Tim and Art looked after the chickens, of which there were always at least three hundred. They all got their eggs, of course from them, as well as slaughtering up to two hundred each year, while raising more from chicks.

They had eight ewes and a ram they kept for wool and lamb. The ladies looked after them, along with two llamas, and several had learned to spin and weave.

Linda Stockton, and her daughter, Melody, were accomplished potters and most of the men knew how to tan hides. Henry could make moccasins, and several others could make vests and hats.

Most of the men knew simple woodworking, but Ed and Tom Stockton were very accomplished at it.

All the men were experienced hunters, as well as gardeners, and all the ladies could can, cook and sew. They had stockpiled important things, like; salt, honey; seeds; hand tools; ammunition; bows and arrows; clothing and cloth; canning supplies; threads and needles; writing tablets and other stationary; pens and pencils; lamp oil; dry yeast; vegetable oils; vinegar; herbs and spices for the kitchen; candles; blankets; boots and shoes of all sizes; diapers and things like baby oil; Vaseline; ointments and balms; and aspirin and other pills.

Henry thought their only weakness was not knowing as much as they should about medicinal herbs and roots. They had a number of books on it, though, so they could learn.

They were happy with what they had. They had the means to survive and good people to survive with. They knew a day of reckoning was coming; it had to come, the nation, indeed the world, had been floundering from crisis to crisis for years. They felt they were prepared, though the extent of this crisis was not what they expected. Still, if they stuck together, they could flourish.




Henry and his boys stepped out of their house at seven the next morning, as they always did. It was time to get to work. He waved at his brother, who was gathering some of the young men to go on his scavenging expedition. There were six in all, he noticed. He'll probably take the rack body truck and a pickup truck, or maybe two pickup trucks, Henry thought to himself. He hoped it turned out to be a worthwhile expedition. He imagined it would be. He knew most of those folks who had lived down there. There was the Conway farm, the Kendrick farm, both of which should have useful things. They canned a lot of stuff, he knew. There were five other houses up to the border of Kenton. Dave wouldn't go any farther, at least not today. Those five homes had housed good people. They were all gone know. He tried not to be bitter about it. He tried to keep the bad taste out of his mouth, but it was difficult. It was very difficult.

“Well boys, it's July Fourth. Does anyone feel like celebrating?”

“Not me, Dad. I feel like working.” Sandy remarked. “We have lots to do, and July Fourth means nothing to us any more, except to remind us of what used to be.”

“Well put, Sandy. Let's get to it then.” Henry said.

The Gulch had six different tractors. They would hook up the side bars for cutting hay to three of them.

“Sandy, you take the field south of the orchard. Danny, you take the one next to Sandy, and I'll take the one next to you.” Henry decided. “With any luck, we'll finish cutting by lunch time.”

Tom and Jim Stockton came into the Maintainance Barn as they were hooking up their equipment.

“Good morning.” Tom offered. “You're headed to the lower hay fields I hear. Good. When it comes time for baling, we'll give you a hand.”

“Many thanks, Tom. How is the garden doing?” Henry asked.

“It is starting to produce nicely. Peas and leaf lettuce are coming in strong, and cukes for pickling are coming in. Some of the kids are taking care of them. Jim and I are going to haul some of the manure away from the cow barn.”

“It's a funny thing about manure, it just keeps coming.” Henry winked at Tom.

“That it does, Henry.” Tom chuckled. “Art and Tim slaughtered a hog yesterday. They have got the hams smoking already.”

“They are getting real good at that. I can taste the ham already.” Henry said. “Keep your eyes open, Tom. Both of you. Keep a rifle handy, as well as your side arms. I just have a funny feeling. I don't know why. Hell, there aren't many people alive anymore. Still, I have that feeling.”

Jim and Tom nodded at Henry's advice. His “funny feelings” were usually accurate. They would keep alert for trouble, wherever it should crop up. Henry had his rifle in a sling on his tractor, and Sandy and Daniel had their shotguns similarly arranged, ready for use.

“We'll keep our eyes open, Henry.” Jim promised.

“That's all we can do, Jim. All right, boys. Let's head out.”

The three tractors pulled out of the shed and headed for the fields. All of them were in a row, with Sandy in the lead, followed by Daniel. Henry brought up the rear. He scouted the skies for any signs of rain, but smiled as he saw none. Yes, it would be a good day for mowing hay, he saw. He was still concerned about his “feeling” that something bad would happen, so he kept a lookout as they proceeded to the lower fields. Driving past the horse pasture Henry noticed they were acting a little skittish, lifting their heads from grazing, now and again, and looking to the South with nervous looks. Something is bothering them. What was it? Was it a bear they smelled in the light breeze that was coming from the south, or was it something else? No, it couldn't be a bear. Not at this time of day. Or could it? Henry would keep a constant lookout, that's for sure. The animals always sensed trouble before man did. Long experience with them had taught him to pay attention to how they reacted.

They reached the lower fields without noticing anything to worry about and set to the task of cutting the hay. Both Sandy and Daniel had learned long ago what they had to do and they set about their task without need of instruction. Henry, as he bent to his task, still kept an eye out for potential danger, as he saw the boys did, also. They were good boys, Henry knew. He was proud of them. They were good, hard workers, with good heads on their shoulders, which, outside of the Gulch, was rare in young people these days. All the young men and women, and even the younger boys and girls, had been raised to think of the land as their friend, to be protected and nourished, as parents nourish and protect their children. It was a symbiotic relationship of man and Nature. Man depended upon Nature to sustain him, whether he was heedful of that fact or no. To be heedful was to be respectful.

Despite their constant vigilance, nothing untoward happened. They finished their mowing shortly after noon and were heading back to the shed when Henry saw the horses were even more skittish. What do they sense? He soon found out. As they approached the shed, he saw Ed, Nathan and Art gathered together, with their rifles in hand. They were looking off to the south; the same as the horses.

“Dogs, Henry. It sounds like there is a pack of dogs on the prowl, somewhere to the south.” Ed told him. “Jim and Tom took a truck to see if Dave is having any trouble with them.”

“Dogs? Damn! With the noise of the tractor I hadn't heard them.” Henry replied. He pulled his tractor into the shed and turned it off. The boys did likewise. With the noise from the tractors silenced, they could hear the distant barking sounds of a large pack of dogs. “It sounds like a big pack. It didn't take all those pet dogs long to go wild, did it?”

“No, you're right, it didn't.” Ed agreed. “Well, with their masters gone, and no one to look after them, it was to be expected, I suppose. I just hope Dave and the boys are all right.”

“We told the kids to stay inside, for now.” Nathan said. “As long as we can hear those dogs, it isn't safe for them to be outside.”

“Good thinking, Nathan.” Henry said. “Get your shotguns ready, boys. There is no telling if they will come this way.”

The boys got their shotguns and Henry got his rifle. As they came back to join the others, they heard gunshots; lots of them.

“It looks like Dave has some trouble on his hands.” Ed said.

After the initial flurry, the gunshots stopped. “The dogs must have run away from them.” Nathan commented. “We'll see if they head this way, I suppose.”

“Will and Tim are guarding the sheep. I guess we should go guard the cows.” Ed said. “Maybe you and your boys could guard the horses, Henry.”

“We certainly can, Ed. Are the ladies armed?”

“Yes. Cheryl, Ellen, Linda and Mary are armed and keeping an eye out from their front porches.”

“All right. They can protect the houses. Let's go boys.” Henry headed off to the horse pasture with his boys beside him.

The noise from the dogs was getting louder, Henry realized. They were definitely coming closer. He didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit. He double checked to see that he had extra ammo clips.

“How many rounds do you boys have?”

“My shotgun is fully loaded and I have two extra boxes in my bag.” Sandy replied.

“The same here, Dad.” Daniel replied.

“I have four clips, plus the one in my rifle. It will have to be enough. Don't waste it, boys. Shoot to kill, if they get near us or the horses. We'll stay close together, too.” Henry scanned the south, looking for any signs of the pack, but could see nothing, yet.

They couldn't see them, but they could hear them. Henry figured there must be at least a couple of dozen of them by the sound of it. He noticed the horses were now gathered in the north end of their pasture.

“We can settle ourselves by that big Oak tree.” Henry said. “It's not as if we need cover, but it will give us some shade.”

As they settled into positions, Henry noticed the horses move a little closer to them. Smart animals, he thought. They know we will protect them.

“I have some jerky. Is anyone interested?” Sandy asked.

“Sure.” Daniel said, and took a strip from Sandy's hand.

“Thank you, Sandy. I think I will take a piece.” Henry said.

They chewed on their jerky and waited. The noise kept getting louder. Henry was beginning to wonder why they weren't seeing them, when across the stream, on the Merrill property, he finally saw them. Damn! There were more than he had originally thought. There must be three dozen, at least.

“Wait until I shoot, boys. Your shotguns don't have the range my rifle does. I'll pick off a few, if I can. Maybe it will scare them away.”

Henry waited for them to come closer. They were still out of range, he figured, until they crossed the stream and came at least seventy-five yards closer. It wouldn't take them long to cover that distance.

Resting one arm on a fence post, to steady his aim, Henry sighted in the lead dog, a Pit Bull, and waited for him to come close enough. That Pit Bull was definitely the leader of this pack, Henry decided, as he watched it lead the others across the stream and headed them toward the horses. That Pit Bull looked mean. He knew what he was after, and he was going to get it. Once across the stream, it broke into a run, heading straight for the horses. Henry followed him with his aim. Once he was in close enough range, Henry squeezed the trigger and the dog dropped almost instantly.

The report of the rifle had startled the other dogs. They were unsure of what to do. After a slight pause, another dog took the lead and charged the horses. It was a Rottweiler. Henry took aim and dropped it as he had the first, but this time the dogs didn't hesitate. They were after the two colts, and they smelled dinner.

Henry winged another dog before the dogs were in range for the boys to start shooting. They opened fire and two more dogs dropped. It was now a matter of shooting enough of them to scare the remainder off. Sandy and Daniel understood what was to be done and pumped their full loads into the pack of dogs as quickly as possible, while Henry did the same with his rifle. More dogs dropped, but they continued, for they were almost on their prey. The horses, scared to death by the onrushing pack of dogs, suddenly bolted, en masse, scrambling in all directions. The dogs, seeing a clear path to the colts, charged straight at them, having only the mothers of the colts to deal with, they began attacking the legs of the larger animals.

Henry leaped over the fence and raced toward the mares and colts. He was swing his rifle as a club. He was determined to save the horses. Behind him came Sandy and Daniel. Swinging his rifle about him, Henry let out a ferocious roar.

Whether it was the mere approach of the humans, or Henry's roar that scared off the dogs, they would never know for sure, but the dogs suddenly bolted off. The horses were safe.

“I'll be. That roar of yours must have scared the bejesus out of them, Dad.” Sandy grinned as he stood watching the dogs run into the woods.

“With a roar like that, I don't think those dogs will be back, either.” Danny laughed. “Where did that roar come from, Dad? I never heard you roar like that before.”

“You've never seen me in a life or death struggle before, boys. It wasn't just the horses I was worried about. It was the danger my sons faced. Fathers can be savage when protecting their children.” Henry looked at the boys. “We are faced with a fight for survival, boys. Who knows what we will be facing in the months and years ahead? It will be important for all of us in the Gulch to stick together.” He looked out where dead dogs were scattered about the field. “You tasted a few minutes of battle. You did well. Let's get a truck up here and haul these dogs to the pit. We'll need to cover them up with dirt.”

The “pit” was an old ten acre gravel pit that had come with the purchase of some land they had bought. The plan was to steadily fill it in with brush, some manure and ashes from the wood-fired generator, as well as their own wood stoves. Eventually it could be reclaimed as useful farmland.

Ed and Nathan had driven up shortly after the dogs ran away. They drove their truck out onto the pasture and helped load the dead dogs into it. There were fourteen dead dogs in all. Sandy and Daniel offered to take care of the disposal of the dogs in the pit.
“Grab some shovels from the tool shed, boys.” Henry advised. He looked at Ed. “Is there any news from Dave?”

“Jim and Tim just returned with a truckload of dead dogs. Dave and the boys killed nine of them.” Ed replied. “That makes twenty-three wild dogs we won't have to worry about. I suppose there will be more. Folks had a lot of dogs before the virus hit.”

“You're right, Ed. If we don't kill them off, they'll be breeding.
Maybe we should have a hunt of them.” Henry thought out loud.

“Maybe we should.” Ed agreed.

The boys took the truck to the pit and Ed and Henry walked back to the houses. They didn't talk, as each man was engrossed in his own thoughts.

“How are the horses?” Nathan asked upon their return.

“Fine. They were scared, but uninjured.” Henry informed him.

“Do you think the dogs will be back?” Nathan asked.

“It's hard saying. Maybe, but maybe they will find easier pickings somewhere else. Of course, in the long run we have to deal with them. Packs of dogs are dangerous. We'll need to do some deer and duck hunting before too long. I can't say I'd be too crazy about going out into the woods with dog packs roaming about.” Henry waited for his message to set into Nathan's mind. “We need to deal with those dogs. I doubt that is the only pack we will see.”

“They will begin attacking the deer. Maybe they already have.” Ed mentioned.

“We'll need to organize a few dog-hunting parties, I guess.” Nathan realized. “John Small and Bob Avery might join in with us.”

“Yes, and Ted Cartwright, too. With all of us, we could do a lot of damage to those packs.” Ed said.

“Why don't we plan on a hunt three days from now. Nathan, you can drive over and have a talk with John and Bob, and Ed, you know Ted real well. Why don't you have a talk with him. Meanwhile, we'll keep a good eye out for any more packs coming around here.” Henry suggested.

“That will work.” Ed said. “Friday we hunt dogs.”

“In the meantime, keep your guns handy.” Henry cautioned.

[shortydawkins]

Jan 22, 2012 9:46:46 GMT -6 idahobob said:

Another good 'un it the making. ;D

Thanks, and keep it up.

Bob
III

Many thanks Bob.

Shorty

[nancy1340]

Shorty, fine story. Thanks

'Bout the only thing I'd suggest is to seperate the paragraphs. Kinda makes it hard to figuer out where you are if you take your eyes off the page for a minuet.

[leper]

I have read some of this story and I like the premise. I find it very difficult to digest the introduction of around 30 characters at the same time. It actually gave me a headache. I would prefer a little more time with each one so that I can determine if I like them or hate them. Same with the equipment laundry list. Too much too fast. If you are familiar with the equipment already it is an easy read, if you are not it just becomes a blur, something I skim over because of too much detail at one time.
Just one readers perspective.

[shortydawkins]

Jan 22, 2012 17:42:10 GMT -6 nancy1340 said:

Shorty, fine story. Thanks

'Bout the only thing I'd suggest is to seperate the paragraphs. Kinda makes it hard to figuer out where you are if you take your eyes off the page for a minuet.

I fixed it for you.
Shorty

[shortydawkins]

Jan 22, 2012 18:40:37 GMT -6 leper said:

I have read some of this story and I like the premise. I find it very difficult to digest the introduction of around 30 characters at the same time. It actually gave me a headache. I would prefer a little more time with each one so that I can determine if I like them or hate them. Same with the equipment laundry list. Too much too fast. If you are familiar with the equipment already it is an easy read, if you are not it just becomes a blur, something I skim over because of too much detail at one time.
Just one readers perspective.

Sorry if my story gave you a headache, leper. You are the 2nd person I know to say you don't like lots of characters thrown at them at once. To be honest, I try to be realistic in my writing, (as much as possible, anyway), and there are times in our lives when we meet large numbers of people at once. (At a party of mostly strangers, for instance.) We deal with it, not necessarily easily, but we do. Those people we tend to remember have an importance to us, in some way. The rest remain peripheral. So it is, sometimes, in story-telling. Characters become dominant, while others are there, but sit in the background.

Tom Clancy used to drive me crazy with his technical talk of weapons or bureaucratic crap that may or may not have a strong importance to his story, yet it was, at least to a point, important.

As my stories develop, once the preliminary setup is done, the dominant characters take over. That the others exist, in a backup role becomes evident. They are always there, but they are not the center of attention. New characters enter and are soon filtered out in the same way.

Shorty Dawkins

[leper]

I like the story, just got overwhelmed with the data. Im just sharing my point of view.

[shortydawkins]

Jan 23, 2012 21:07:44 GMT -6 leper said:

I like the story, just got overwhelmed with the data. Im just sharing my point of view.

I understand and appreciate your honesty.

Hermann Hesse wrote a book that begins: In the beginning was the myth. I forget which book it was, and I have lost every Hesse book I once owned by lending them out. To me, that is a magnificent opening line. Oh, that I could have written such as that.

Shorty Dawkins

[rvm45]

I just got around to reading this story today.....

Don't know why it took me so long.....

But then I'm always flitting around the web, doing this and that.....

And I haven't been feeling all that great either.

Be all that as it may. You have a gift as a story-teller; but in all honesty, your first chapter put me off of your story completely.

Machiavelli said, "Men avenge small offenses. They are unable to avenge large ones."

Meaning, if you gotta Hiss him off, kill him while you're at it, and you won't have to worry about his pay-back; regardless of what Karma may be Greasing Up for you.

But there is a class of Offenses Far Worse than merely killing someone, and they are really effective (As Torture) only so long as you leave the Client Alive.

Most of these deal with Humiliation.

Many Desert Folks have an expression that goes something like: "You may Spit on me, but never Spit on my Shadow."

This isn't carte blanche to Spit upon me--but saying, it might so happen that you Spit on me.

You might try to kill me. You might steal my food, weapons, horses--whatever. You may Salt my Ground and Poison my Wells. You may exterminate my Family, even my Clan.....

And all these things are understandable, and under the right circumstances, they might be forgiven. We may someday be at peace once more.

{If this wasn't so, Wars would never end until at least one side was completely eliminated...}

But to deliberately Defile my "Shadow"--My Soul, My Reputation and/or the reputation of my People. My Song.....

There can Never be Peace between us, nor is any form of treachery too vile or low for me to employ against you.

People--many people--Spit when outdoors. Unintentionally getting Spit on someone's shadow is meaningless.

However, the man who leans over and deliberately Spits on one's Shadow while looking one in the eyes, is issuing a challenge that cannot be ignored.

Killing the Sheriff--or worse yet--giving him a Bass-Whipping and leaving him alive.....

That would have been Spitting on Him.

Making him throw away his Badge and Uniform was Spitting on his Shadow.....

And it is the kind of Sadism that I cannot Condone.

.....RVM45

[shortydawkins]

rvm45,
What you say is interesting.
So, would you rather have had the Sheriff killed than to have him give up his position? Interesting. And I thought I was showing a little compassion.

Shorty Dawkins

[rvm45]

Forcing the Sheriff to renounce his office is one thing. Making him strip down to his skivvies is something else.....

Worst of all, was insisting that he leave his badge--which may have had considerable sentimental value to him.

If I'd done it, and later repented.....

I'd have the uniform washed and pressed and then carefully folded.....

After I had carefully removed all patches, badges and insigne with a seam-ripper.....

I'd make sure the Badge was nice and shiny, and I'd return them to him, with a partial apology--for getting into the humiliation zone.

But you know, the first time I watched "The Return of The Mummy" or "Mummy Two" or whatever in the hell the name of it was.....

And there was Imhotep with his legs and ass already in Hell, his Girlfriend deserting him to his fate, and his hold rapidly slipping.....

I said to my Sister, "If it was me, I'd offer him my hand. That would be perfect....."

But they didn't play it that way.

Of course I'm a pretty Forgiving Fellow, if someone will just give me a Half-Vast excuse to be.....

And if they haven't deliberately spit on my Shadow.

[shortydawkins]

Jan 28, 2012 19:55:56 GMT -6 rvm45 said:

Forcing the Sheriff to renounce his office is one thing. Making him strip down to his skivvies is something else.....

Worst of all, was insisting that he leave his badge--which may have had considerable sentimental value to him.

Making him strip down to his skivvies? Ah! I see where you get that idea. I need to make a correction there. I didn't mean to imply he needed to take the uniform off then and there, rather to take it off when he got home and never put it on again.

I'll make that change, but the badge is the sign of his office. Throw it down, sentiment or no sentiment.

Shorty

[shortydawkins]

Dave returned later that day with a tractor and two horses following behind the trucks, which were loaded with useful goods.

“I hadn't realized how prepared the Conways and Kendricks were.” Dave told Henry and Ed. “John Hendrick always did play his hand close to his vest. So did Bob Conway. Well, they are loaded with useful things; food, fuel, and supplies of all types. Heck, John even has an old horse-drawn wagon in his Carriage Shed.”

“It dawns on me they both always plant large gardens and John has an apple orchard. If we can spare the time, we could pick their produce and can it.” Jim said.

“That's true, Jim. Or we could feed the hogs with it, if the ladies can't can it all.” Tim suggested.

A thought came into Henry's head, and even as he considered it, another thought, of even bigger scope came into his head. He let the thought gel a minute before making up his mind on whether to pursue his idea. Satisfied it would be worth pursuing, he turned to Dave.

“Dave, I think you and I need to take a drive over to the Palmer Gulch, over in Kenton. We need to see if they survived.” Henry said.

“All right. When do you want to go?” Dave looked at the twinkle in Henry's eye. He knew his brother was up to something.

“Right now. Grab your rifle.” Henry winked at him.

Dave smiled but said nothing more, as he grabbed his rifle and he and Henry got into Henry's truck.

“You are up to something, Henry. What is it?” Dave had waited until they were on their way before saying anything.

“Sandy and your son, Tom, are of an age to get themselves married, wouldn't you say?” Henry began.

“I'd say so, yes.” Dave replied. He thought about it for a minute in relation to why they were headed to Dick Palmer's Gulch. “Dave Palmer's people have a bunch of girls about our boys ages, don't they?” He said aloud.

“Yep, if they all survived.” Henry said. “Pretty girls, as I remember them. If I'm not mistaken, Tom and Sandy kind of liked a couple of them.”

“Why, you old matchmaker you.” Dave grinned. “I know what you're thinking. You want the two boys to get married to those girls and settle into the Kendrick place. There are two houses there, after all. Isn't that what you are thinking?”

“That's it, Dave. What do you think of my idea?”

“Well, it is certainly true that the two boys seemed to like those girls, and since the virus, there aren't many choices of ladies out there.” He thought about it a minute. “It could work out. If nothing else comes of this trip, it will be a chance to see how the Palmer Gulch is making out. Maybe we can help each other.” He thought about it some more. “Damn, Henry, you may be on to something.”

Henry just smiled. Yes, I come up with some crazy ideas, sometimes, but this one just might work out.

It was only six miles to the Palmer Gulch. They were on a side road on the north side of Kenton. When they pulled onto the long driveway, they saw some folks about, doing chores of one sort or another. The Palmer Gulch was almost as big as the Miller Gulch, they having eight families. Dick and his brother, Ralph, and their sister, Louise, had started it about the same time Henry and Dave had started theirs. Over the years they had done trade together, and visited quite often socially. It would be good to renew that social contact, Henry thought, with a smile.

When Henry pulled the truck up beside the big garage, Ralph came out to greet them.

“Well, look who's here. Henry and Dave Miller. It's good to see you fellows. How did you folks in Miller's Gulch survive the virus?” He held his hand out to shake theirs.

“We all survived, Ralph. How about you?” Dave asked.

“We all survived, thank God.” Ralph replied. “So much death and suffering. It was horrible.”

“Yes. I was saddened beyond measure as we were burying the dead.” Henry said. “It is a new World, now, Ralph. Fewer people everywhere. The old World, such as it was, is gone. We must look to the future now, which brings me to why we are here. We'd like a few words with you and Liz, and Dick and Sharon, alone, in private, if we could. If it's not disturbing you.”

“No. No disturbance, Henry. Why don't you and Dave go out to the Gazebo, and I'll get the others. By the sound of it, it is important. You know the way to the Gazebo, don't you?”

“Yes. We can find it. Thank you in advance for taking the time to speak with us.” Henry said.

Dave and Henry easily found the Gazebo. They had spent some quiet evenings there with the Dick and Sherry and others. Henry had considered building one at Miller's Gulch, but they had never gotten around to it.

“I always did like this gazebo.” Dave mentioned. “It's pleasant, and the setting is nice, being beside the brook.”

“The first time I ever kissed Cheryl was in her parent's gazebo.” Henry chuckled. “I was so very nervous, but it was worth it.”

“Really? The first time I kissed Ellen was on her parent's front porch. You are right, though, as nervous and afraid as I was, it was worth it.”

“It seems so long ago, yet the memory remains, clear as if it happened yesterday.” Henry said. “Our boys need to start building memories, Dave. They need a companion, a help-mate, a lover, and a Mother for their children. The future lies before them.”

“You are waxing philosophical, but I agree with you. The old days are gone. Let's start building a future for our children.”

The foursome came walking up the path. Dick and Sherry had big smiles on their faces. Ralph and Liz had looks of curiosity.

“Welcome neighbors! It is good to see you. Ralph tells us you all survived the virus. Excellent.!” Dick said.

Welcomes were exchanged all around.

“So, what is it you wanted to speak to us about?” Dick finally asked.

“The future, Dick, or more correctly our children's future.” Henry responded. “The virus has devastated everyone. There aren't many of us left. It is time to think about rectifying that. As an adjunct, it is time for us to form an alliance, of sorts.

“We've known each other a lot of years. Our Gulches started within a year of each other, and we've socialized and traded with you. We've watched each others children grow. My oldest boy, Sandy, is now 22 years old. It is time for him to be married; to choose a mate and to start a family of his own. Dave's boy, Tom, is 20. It is time for him to do the same.

“I remember when we gathered together for a barbecue on Memorial Day, Sandy spent a lot of time talking with your girl, Leslie, Dick and Sherry, and Tom spent a lot of time with Janet, your daughter, Ralph and Liz. They seem to like each other, unless I am mistaken. What I'd like to suggest is that we encourage them to get married. There aren't many choices for young people, I'm afraid to say. Those in our gulches are most all the ones available.

“I was thinking as an inducement for them to make up their minds, we could set both couples up at the Kendrick Farm. No one survived there, unfortunately. As you might remember, there are two houses on the property, and the Farm is a good one. I think it would make a nice place for them.

“All right, I've said my spiel. Tell me if you think I'm crazy, or if I make sense.”

Sherry was the first to speak. “First, Henry, let me say you are not crazy. Dick and I were talking just yesterday about what the future holds for our girls. We recognize the world has changed. We've been meaning to pay you a visit, to see if you were all right, but, well, we've been so darn busy we haven't gotten around to it.

“I do remember Leslie and Sandy spending a lot of time together. I talked to Leslie about it and she told me she liked Sandy very much. Given the new reality, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if Sandy were to ask for her hand, she would say yes. As to living on the Kendrick Farm, I think it is a wonderful idea.”

“I agree with Sherry. The two, in my opinion would make a good couple. That it forms an alliance between our families is a plus.” Dick responed. “What about Janet, Liz? Do you think she is interested in Tom?”

“Definitely. I had a long talk with her after that barbeque. She gushed over Tom. Yes, I would think she would say yes.” Liz admitted. “And I am all for it, by the way. Tom is such a nice young man. Even if times weren't the way they are, she couldn't do better.”

“I guess it's my turn to speak. To be honest, I leave it up to Janet. Whatever she wants is fine with me. I will say Tom would make a good choice. As Leslie says, he is a nice young man.”

“Well, I hardly know what to say.” Henry said. “I thank you, and I certainly hope it works out the way I envisioned. Dave and I will speak to the boys. We'll try to give them encouragement. Perhaps we could bring the boys over on Sunday, to give them an opportunity, shall we say. We could bring Cheryl and Ellen and we parents could have a nice visit. Would that work for you?”

“That sounds fine, Henry.” Dick agreed. “We could visit you the next Sunday, if the boys have trouble building up their nerve to pop the question.” He smiled. “I know I had a lot of difficulty building up the nerve to ask Sherry to marry me.”

“I know. I kept hoping you'd ask, but you never did. Then when I'd almost given up hope, you finally asked.” Sherry poked Dick in the ribs and laughed.

“We'll hope Sandy and Tom aren't as slow about it as Dick and I were.” Ralph smiled. “Ask Leslie. I started three different times, but chickened out the first two.”

“Come on over even if they do pop the question. We need to get together more often.” Henry insisted.

“I'm curious, how did Kenton fare with the virus?” Dave asked.

“Not good.” Ralph answered. Other than the other two gulches, only thirty survived. What about Whitman?”

“Other than our Gulch, there were 50 survivors.” Dave replied.

“Not many outside of the Gulches survived anywhere.” Dick said. “We heard from Bob Snow's Gulch in Twin Hills. They all survived, but only eight others did.”

“Damn! They are three times the size of Whitman! Only eight? Wow! That's depressing.” Dave shook his head. “Well, it looks like it is up to us Gulchers to rebuild this area.”

“That's it, Dave.” Dick agreed. “We can begin by getting these two couples married and settled into the Kendrick Farm.”

[shortydawkins]

When they got home, Henry and Dave called Sandy and Tom into Dave's study. They explained the situation to them, and talked of the future. Both of the boys agreed they needed to start families. They also admitted they liked the girls in question very much. They would ask them to marry them on Sunday.



Nothing untoward occurred during the next two days, though Henry could hear some dogs baying at night. They knew dogs were around, but none came into the Gulch.

The hay was baled and got into the hay barn. It was the first hay of the year. With any luck they would get three cuttings before Autumn.

Dave and the boys spent the next two days scavenging from the houses further south. They took no more out of the Kendrick Farm, though. There was plenty to scavenge from the Conway Farm and the other houses, as it turned out. They found over eighty cases of canning jars, including lids, and 200 lbs of flour, 100 lbs of salt, 65 lbs of sugar, and 120 gallons of gasoline. They also found supplies of dry milk, canned goods, condiments, spices, towels, sheets and blankets, more boots and shoes, clothing, candles and lamp oil, and all kinds of hand tools for both the garden and the workshop. It was, all in all, definitely worth the time spent.



The dog hunt was less than successful. A group led by Art and Tim James came across a small pack of a dozen dogs, killing them all, but the other two groups saw nothing of dogs. The dogs were staying away from them, it seems.

“We'll just have to keep an eye out for them.”Ed said. “I worry about the deer population, though.”




On Sunday, as promised, the two couples took their two boys to the Palmer Gulch. The boys were very anxious and nervous. It wasn't surprising, but Henry couldn't help but smile inwardly at their discomfort. He had endured it many years ago. At least they had the knowledge the girls very well might say yes, though it wasn't a sure bet.

The married couples sat in the shade of a beautiful maple tree in Dick's yard, it being a nice, sunny day, while the two couples took walks, separately, to talk and to give the boys a chance to propose.

The parents, not wanting to jinx the young couples, talked of other matters.

“I heard from Fred Conners over in Barksdale.” Dick said. “His Gulch survived intact, as did Jack Wellstone's Gulch. Barksdale only had eleven other survivors, though. It's a shame, really. I knew a lot of folks in Barksdale. They were nice people, even though they wouldn't listen to us Gulchers.”

“It was pretty much the same over in Sentinel.” Dave said. “Bill Grantham's Gulch had one loss, but there were only four other survivors in the town. Bill took the four into his Gulch. Three were women and one was a young boy of eight. That was very nice of Bill and his people I thought.”

“Yes it was.” Liz said. “They have some hope, now. I'm sure they were devastated by the loss of their families.”

“I was thinking it will be a long time before things can get functioning anywhere near normal, if that's the right word for it.” Cheryl spoke up. “I mean, we have no real manufacturing to depend on. What will happen when things start running out?”

“Yes, we have time, thank goodness, with all the supplies we can scavenge, to start developing new manufacturing businesses.” Ralph noted. “We were talking about this yesterday. We'll have to start out with the simplest type of manufacturing. For instance, there are tons of cars floating around out there. We can, if need be, use some of the gears, parts or frames, or even the windows, for simple types of machinery, as we need it.”

“That's a good point, Ralph. Scavenging can carry us through, maybe for several years, but eventually we will have to start manufacturing things. Starting with simple types of manufacturing, and moving up to the more difficult makes sense.” Henry said. “For one thing, it will be a learning process. Starting simple, we can learn as we go.”

“I'm worried about fuel.” Dick said. “The gasoline will run out before we know it, and we;ll have to rely on alcohol, for a lot of things, like vehicles and tractors. We have a still, but it can only produce seven gallons a day. Do you have one, Dave?”

“We have two, actually. They are both a little bigger than yours. They can produce 15 gallons a day. Of course the problem is, finding enough corn, or other plant matter to keep them operating. Art thinks we need to come up with some other fuel source. He remembers reading about algae as a biofuel. He has it on his computer. He plans on studying it. He seems to think it might be an answer. Of course biofuel can only be used in diesel engines, so we'll store some diesel trucks and tractors for future use.”

“Ron mentioned something about that. Maybe he and Art should get together after the harvest is over. Who knows? They may come up with something.” Dick said.

“I'll mention it to Art. He and Tim work together, usually. They can make a three man team.” Dave said.

“You men can talk shop all you want. I think we ladies should go for a little walk.” Liz suggested. “Will you join me, ladies?”

They all decided to join her and the ladies went to look at the flower beds that dotted the place. They would talk about things women tend to talk of.

“You know, we have a generator that is fired by oil, not gas or diesel, but home heating oil, or even waste oil.” Dick stated. “It is a steam generator that is fired by oil. We figure there must be a lot of oil in the tanks in the abandoned houses that burned oil for heat. Plus, Chet Jackson drove over to Hawkes Oil Company and found two trucks loaded with oil, ready to make deliveries. No one from Hawkes survived, so Chet and his boy got the trucks started and drove them over here. I'm not sure how many gallons is in those trucks, but it must be at least two thousand gallons each. Think of all the oil there could be in the tanks at the Hawkes complex.”

“That's interesting. You are right, there must be a heck of a lot of oil sitting around.” Henry said. “Dave, do you think you and Jim could build an oil fired unit to generate electricity?”

“I'm sure we can. There are plenty of boilers from heating systems in basements all over. A little conversion to steam, connected to a generator and there you have it. We'll get to work on it right away. An oil-fired generator will save us chopping wood. Thanks for the idea, Dick.”

“You are welcome. We'll need to use the stock of oil up, before the tanks rust and leaks, so I'm happy to share what knowledge we have.” Dick replied.

“Speaking of knowledge, we have gathered together, on over a dozen computers, and countless CD and DVD discs, a vast library of knowledge, and of course we have our libraries of books. Should you need anything, we will be glad to help you out.” Henry said.

Ralph chuckled. “We have done the same, Henry, but if we are missing something, we'll be sure to ask. You do the same.”
“It's a deal.” Henry nodded.

“When I talked with Bill Grantham, he mentioned his people were thinking about ways to use plastics. One of his people used to work in the plastics industry.” Dick offered. “He was talking about how much plastic there is around, and we might as well recycle it to our own uses. For instance, he mentioned the possibility of melting down old plastic containers and things like six-pack rings, and making fence posts out of them. That's not a bad idea. It would save trees, to some extent and get rid of the plastic. His people are working on other ideas, too.”

“Excellent. We were talking about starting simple manufacturing. There is an example.” Henry remarked. “I'll suggest to everyone in Whitman to start collecting plastics.”

“We can have the younger kids start collecting plastic from the houses in town.” Dave suggested. “We'll spread the word, definitely.”

“A thought just occurred to me.” Ralph spoke up. “Maybe we should get all the Gulchers together to have a talk about what different things we are working on. It could be a time of spreading information and coming up with new and interesting ideas.”

“Damn, Ralph! That's a good idea!” Dave exclaimed. “We could gather at the Grange Hall, here in Kenton. We could make it an all day event, with a big picnic.”

“How about two weeks from this coming Sunday?” Dick suggested.

“That sounds fine. We'll contact the people on the north side of Kenton.” Henry offered. “We haven't made contact with Jeff Ring, in Darby. It will give us a reason to do so.”

“Very good. We'll contact the folks in town and over in Barksdale. We could have quite a crowd.” Ralph mentioned.

“There is one thing we have to start thinking about, and this gathering could be the place to hammer out the details.” Henry said. “We need to think about a useful currency, and to place a realistic value on it. I assume most Gulchers have stashes of gold and silver. If we use them, we will need to place a value on them, say against a few basic commodities; like what is a days wage worth in silver, and a bushel of corn, or a horse; things like that. We'll barter, of course, but eventually we'll need a currency.”

“True, Henry. We will be scavenging for a while, but I might find what others need and I don't. Yes, a currency needs to be established, I agree, and gold and silver make sense. We can peg the value, at first, and then let it fluctuate as the Market operates.” Ralph said.

“Oh! I see the couples have returned from their walks. They are with the ladies.” Dick pointed to them. “By all the hugging going on, I guess the kids are engaged.”

“Let's go over and congratulate them.” Dave suggested.

Indeed the boys had proposed and the girls had accepted their proposals. They were now engaged. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged, along with congratulations and wishes for a bright future.

“We'll get your Farm organized. We can bring the tractors back we took from there, and the two horses are yours, though they came from the Conway Farm.” Dave announced. “We'll get you two temporary generators for power. We can make something more permanent later, possibly an oil-fired steam generator. Dick and Ralph put me on to it.”

“So, when shall the wedding be? We need to get you married so you can take over the farm.” Dick said. “There is no sense waiting, is there?”

“How about next Sunday?” Sandy suggested. “We could hold the wedding at our new farm. We can invite everyone we know, have a big cookout and christen the place. The four of us were just talking about it.”

“Sunday sounds great!” Dick exclaimed. “We don't need anything fancy, just good friends gathered to celebrate the joyous occasion.”

“That is just the way we want it, right Leslie?” Sandy said.

“You bet. I can't wait to get started on the farm.” She replied.

“What will we call it?” Janet asked. “Miller's Gulch is taken.”

“How about Miller's Retreat?” Leslie offered.

“If it works for you ladies, it works for us, right, Sandy?” Tom asked.

“I'm with you, Tom.” Sandy smiled. “This is going to be great. I look forward to running the farm with all of you.”

“Can we go look at it?” Janet asked.

“Now you mean?” Sandy asked. Sandy looked at his Dad. “Do you mind if we take the trucks to go see? We'll be back to pick you up.”

“Go right ahead.” Henry said. “The girls want to see the place, and why not?”

As the two couples ran off to the trucks, Sherry said: “There go two very nice young couples. It all happened so fast, too. Thank you Henry and Dave for pushing for it.”

“It was Henry's idea. Thank him, not me. He's the matchmaker.” Dave grinned.

[shortydawkins]

“Henry Miller, you are such a sentimentalist.” Cheryl put one arm around Henry's waist. “I always knew that about you.”

“Maybe, hon, but I'm a realist, too. That's a good farm and we just found two terrific young couples to manage it. They'll need some help, of course, it's too big a place for just the two of them to handle by themselves. Danny and Frank can give them a hand.”

“Danny is how old, eighteen?” Ralph asked.

“He's nineteen.” Cheryl answered.

“Hmmm.... Just a year older than Robin, Dick.” He chuckled. “Maybe .... well, who knows, right? If you were to ask Robin to help the girls out, now and again, just maybe, being around Danny.....”

“Ralph Palmer, have you caught the matchmaking bug, too?” Liz started to laugh. “You are right, though. The two of them just might hit it off.”

“See what you started, Henry?” Dave smiled at his older brother.

“Yes. It's nice, isn't it?” Henry winked at Dave.

“How about we have a nice glass of wine to celebrate the occasion?” Sherry suggested.

“That sounds delightful.” Liz decided.

They had their wine sitting on the front porch of Dick and Sherry's house. Throughout the afternoon they chatted about the future, making plans, speaking of their hopes, both for the two young couples and their Gulches.

The men made plans to take a scavenging trip to Wharton, a small city about 32 miles from Kenton. There were lots of stores in Wharton. Ralph had heard from one of the other Gulchers in Kenton that it was deserted, whether because of the virus, or the survivors leaving it to live elsewhere was not known. They would take four of their biggest trucks with them, load up as much as they could and drive back. They might even bring back a couple of stake-body trucks, if they could find them. Two of the trucks would pull trailers big enough to haul two tractors. Dick thought it advisable to get two new ones from Davis' Farm Equipment Center, which was located on the outskirts of town. Fuel, of course was high on the list, as was heating oil. Clothing, shoes, and a couple of generators were wanted, as well as glassware and canning supplies. Canning supplies were very important, until such time as they could develop the capacity to manufacture them. They would leave early Tuesday morning.

The ladies, meanwhile, were planning a monthly ladies' get together at the Kenton Grange Hall. It would be a chance to socialize and really get to know each other. Eventually, they thought, it could also become a Crafts Market, for quilts and other sewing projects, and other craft items.

The young couples finally returned full of enthusiasm for their new Farm. They loved the farmhouses, and had no problems deciding whose was whose.

“Sandy is the oldest, so he and Leslie get the main house.” Tom explained. “Janet and I will live in the other house. They are both nice, and they are big. We have plenty of room to grow.”

“You'll need some help, I should imagine.” Henry said. “Why don't you ask Danny and Frank. I'm sure your brothers will help you out.”

“That's a good idea, Henry.” Ralph said. “And you ladies will need some help, too.”

“Robin and Lorraine would be a big help to you.” Liz suggested. “Why don't you ask them?”

“What is this?” Dick suddenly said, and pointed down the long driveway to the main road.

They all looked and saw a long line of various types of vehicles, led by a red Jeep Wrangler. There were several tractor-trailer rigs, and several “box trucks”, along with two big motor homes and a fuel truck that could be seen. The line disappeared out of sight. There was no telling how long it was.

The line stopped when the red Jeep reached the end of the driveway. The Jeep turned into the driveway and drove very slowly toward them, while the other vehicles remained on the road. Two-thirds of the way up the driveway the Jeep stopped. Out if it stepped a man, who was driving, and a woman. On foot they slowly approached.

“Is that you, Ralph Palmer?” The man asked, as they got closer. “It's Tom and Diane Chambers.”

“Tom and Diane? Well, I'll be. It's good to see you survived. Come on over here, and let us take a look at you.” Ralph called back. Rather than wait, however, he and Dick walked out to greet them. Henry and Dave followed behind.

Ralph and Dick greeted them warmly, as Henry and Dave looked on.

“Damn! It's good to see you.” Ralph declared. “What are you doing here? And what's with all the trucks and motor homes? Aren't you still in the Marines?”

“Well, it's long story, but no, I'm not in the Marines any more. Diane and I have come home to Kenton, to stay, and we have brought some friends. Is there room in Kenton for 49 survivors do you think?” Tom asked.

“For sure. The town was nearly wiped out by the virus. There are lots of empty houses.” Dick replied. “We'll help you get settled, if you are here to stay. Who are your friends?”

“It's a mixed group, Dick. Twenty-five of us are former Marines. They were with me on a special project I'll tell you more about later. Then there are ten scientists and ten lab assistants. The last four are wives, including Diane.” Tom told him.

“Scientists? Where did you come up with them?” Ralph asked.

“Like I said, it's a long story. I'll tell you all about it, but first I need to get my friends settled in. I just wanted to stop and say hello, and let you know we are here. We are friends, not enemies.”

“We'll show you around.” Ralph offered. “Let's get going. I'm sure you have had a long trip. Let's get you settled.”

“Are any of your people planning on doing any farming?” Henry suddenly asked, before Tom walked away.

“Yes. There are a number of us expecting to farm.” Tom answered.

“I ask, because there is a very nice farm near us in Whitman that is vacant. I'll take you, or whoever, to it, if you are interested.”

“Really? Maybe it will be the place for Diane and me to settle. How big is the house?” Tom asked.

“The Conways had five children, all grown, so it is a big one. They all lived there together. Two of the children were married.” Henry said. “The farm is one of the best in the area. It has good water, the buildings are well maintained, and they have a large garden, which is bearing right now, and a hay crop that needs getting in, as well as a small apple orchard.”

“That sounds like just the place for us, Tom.” Diane said.

“Very good, Henry. Show us to it.” Tom replied. “Ralph, if you'll take the rest into Kenton with you, I'll bring a few of my Marines with me.”

Henry and the rest climbed into their trucks and drove down to the end of the driveway. Looking down the length of the line of the vehicles, Henry saw several pickups towing trailers with farm equipment on them, and several more tractor trailers. They certainly came prepared, he thought to himself. He counted nine tractor trailers.

Henry and Cheryl led the way, with Sandy in the back of the pickup. When they reached the turnoff to Whitman, Tom and Diane, along with a pickup hauling a tractor and a “box truck” followed them. The rest followed Ralph and Dick into Kenton. After just two miles, Henry pulled into the Conway Farm.

“Well, here it is.” Henry announced as everyone got out of their vehicles.

“Rick, you Ted and Phil can look around the farm. Diane and I will look at the house.” Tom said.

“Yes, sir.” Rick responded. “Shake a leg, farmers. Let's check it out.”

“The three of them grew up on farms.” Tom explained. “They know what to look for.”

Henry, Cheryl and Ellen led them inside, while Dave and the boys showed the three others around. As they looked around, Henry explained that they had scavenged some things from the Farm and house, but would return them right away.

“There is no hurry, Henry. We probably have most everything we need on the trucks.” Tom said. “Nine tractor trailers, four box trucks and eight or nine pickup trucks can hold a lot. Plus, we plan on doing some scavenging.”

“Now that you mention it. The Palmers and we are going into Wharton on Wednesday to do some scavenging. Why don't you join us?” Henry suggested.

“That sounds good, Henry. Thanks for the invite.” Tom smiled.
They looked at all the rooms and Diane pronounced the place suitable.

“It has plenty of bedrooms. A big kitchen, enough bathrooms and a nice study. This will work out nicely.” Diane decided.

“If the boys find the farm suitable, which it appears to be, we'll settle here.” Tom said. “Let's go look around outside.”

When they stepped outside, Henry pointed out Miller's Retreat, which was visible across a large pasture.

“My boy, Sandy, and Dave's boy, Tom, will be moving in there. They are marrying Dick and Ralph's daughters on Sunday. We'll have a gathering at the place for the little ceremony and a big cookout afterward. Nothing fancy. We hope you will come, of course.”

“Please do.” Cheryl insisted.

“That is right neighborly of you. We'd be pleased to come. It will give us a chance to get acquainted with our neighbors.” Tom replied.

Just then the three “farmers” came around the corner to see Tom.

“This is a nice farm. We will do well to stay here.” Rick said.

“That settles it, then. Diane likes the house and you like the farm. Let's start unloading.” Tom said. “Charlie, Larry, start unloading. This is home.” He called out to the remaining two Marines. “Rick, give them a hand getting the generator set up.” He turned to speak with the Millers. “We want to thank you for your assistance. This farm will be a good place for us. We'll be fine. There is no reason to keep you from your dinner.”

“If you are sure, then we'll be off.” Dave said. “Welcome to Whitman.”

[remembergoliad]

So far so good

Thanks for writing!

[nancy1340]

Dang'it'tall Remembergoliad! ......I thougth we had a new chapter to read. LOL

[Lobo solitario]

Not compassion, just a bitter hatred that can devour the soul. And comes across as small and mean.

[shortydawkins]

Feb 28, 2012 2:50:03 GMT -6 Lobo solitario said:

Not compassion, just a bitter hatred that can devour the soul. And comes across as small and mean.

I find some of the responses to this interesting. That two men, who had tried to warn those in "authority" about an impending disaster, for years, but had been laughed at and called tin-foil hats guys for their efforts, who, after just what they had warned about comes true, resulting in billions of deaths, who then demand that the "authority" figure they had tried to warn unsuccessfully, give up his office, or be shot, are considered mean and bitter.
There is no hope for America.

Short Dawkins

[Lobo solitario]

Feb 28, 2012 5:12:21 GMT -6 shortydawkins said:

Feb 28, 2012 2:50:03 GMT -6 Lobo solitario said:

Not compassion, just a bitter hatred that can devour the soul. And comes across as small and mean.

I find some of the responses to this interesting. That two men, who had tried to warn those in "authority" about an impending disaster, for years, but had been laughed at and called tin-foil hats guys for their efforts, who, after just what they had warned about comes true, resulting in billions of deaths, who then demand that the "authority" figure they had tried to warn unsuccessfully, give up his office, or be shot, are considered mean and bitter.
There is no hope for America.

Short Dawkins

I have not read anything about this particular sheriff except what is in this specific story. I don’t know all the background you mention. I don’t see how anyone could, unless there is another story to which this is a sequel. If that is the case it should be made clear to the reader of the sequel who has not read the preceding tome, just what this person has done to disserve such mean treatment.

As a standalone, using a county sheriff as a whipping boy for all of government is not going to work. Many people see the office of sheriff as a bastion of localism and a bulwark protecting individual rights. The office of county sheriff is the most powerful position that is elected directly by the local community. Your county sheriff can tell anyone from the feds on down to go pound sand. And many have. I think you picked the wrong scapegoat to start in on from word one without setting up any justification for it.

Just my two cents worth.

Mike